Sunday 13 June 2010

Mr Burns was Right.

When I was fifteen, my form teacher at school told me I should be deciding on a career path. The right ‘A’ levels needed to be selected so as to prepare for an appropriate degree course.

Life was different then. Apart from anything else, the jobs market was very labour-intensive – and I lived in an industrial area where the main choices were the factories, the mines and the steelworks. The arts were not encouraged. What nod was made towards them was peremptory at best, and nobody gave any thought at all to a career in fields like fine art, music, photography, drama, graphic design... The choice was simple: most kids left school and simply ‘got a job,’ a few of the more able ones went for an apprenticeship in one of the trades, and the tiny, select minority headed for university and entered a profession. It seemed I was one of the select minority, and so I considered the possibilities.

I thought back over my short life to date, asking what it was that had most held my interest. One thing stood out: I had always had a passion for landscape. So how could I turn that into a professional career? No sort of creative or artistic approach entered my head; I’d never been conditioned to think that way and nobody suggested it. All I could come up with was geology, so that was decided upon.

It would have been a bad choice, I think; geology is far too technical and has little relevance to my predilections. I wasn’t to realise that for a long time, but the problem was averted anyway when my step-father flatly refused to let me stay at school. I left, as ordered, at sixteen.

The penny dropped when I was thirty two. By then I’d made a succession of attempts at careers that had been wholly inappropriate. I’d tried them and let them all go. And then I re-discovered an interest that had simmered during my childhood: photography. I put the pieces together and realised that my interest in landscape wasn’t technical, it was aesthetic. More than that, it ventured into a vague area that you might call spiritual or mystical. I spent the next two years diligently training myself to a professional level in photography. At thirty five, a series of circumstances conspired to turn my life upside down, and one of the consequences was that it freed me to go into a photographic career. I took the opportunity with great enthusiasm.

I spent the first two years living decreasingly on my capital as the work built up. The next two years were the boom ones; I made enough money to start rebuilding that capital. The next two years saw a steady decline as the recession bit, until there was nothing left. No money, no work, and no prospects. I was living up in Northumberland at the time where I hardly knew anybody. I didn’t have the means to socialise, and so I was left a bit in limbo.

And then a friend from back home offered me the use of a small house he’d inherited. We could come to some agreement on the rent, he said, and I couldn’t see that I had any alternative but to accept. I moved back to the industrial town where I’d grown up, feeling a bit disappointed at the way things had turned out. Actually, I was quite depressed. I decided the solution lay in making contact with people again.

That was why I started doing voluntary work at a professional producing theatre only ten minutes walk away. I soon fell in love with the place. I felt at home among the actors and production staff, I became quite close to the Theatre Manager – a lovely lady called Judy Bowker who subsequently died of cancer aged forty four, I met the woman who was to become the most important person in my life, I eventually got a paid job there - which was the only ‘employed’ position I ever enjoyed - and I even did some photographic work for them. It was one of the richest and most fulfilling periods in my life.

And the reason for telling all this? ‘The best laid plans o’ mice ’n men gang aft a-gley.’ However much work and commitment you put into a project or career path, there is always something out there capable of knocking your feet from under you. Young people are so pressured these days to strive, work, plan, evaluate, and get obscenely laden with stress in the process.

I think the Confuscianist ethic of order, structure, ambition and control is given far too much weight now. Sometimes the very best things come from just going with the flow.

14 comments:

Carmen said...

Jeff, this post made my day.

I think a lot of people I know, including myself, are so wrapped up in finding a set career, that they don't really know how to go with the flow, which is really disappointing for me to see. I'm pretty sure there are heaps of opportunities out there.
BRING THEM ON.

JJ said...

Lovely to see you, Carmen. I like your attitude, and the way you've seen through things at a lot younger age than I did.

There's nothing wrong with going for a career, as long as you maintain a sense of balance. I think everything is too rigidly focussed now. Life has the capacity to destroy everything you've worked hard for, and then it throws some opportunity at you that you've never even thought of. I think it's a matter of being more flexible and relaxed about it all. Things go wrong; things go right. We survive. We sometimes end up where we didn't expect to, and then we deal with it.

Thanks for the comment. I appreciate it.

Wendy said...

As trite as the saying "When you make plans, God Laughs" I believe is highly true. What you successfully accomplished that most people never dare to do, is follow your bliss and adapt to what life is opening for you. Bravo, Jeff! Encore, Encore ;)

JJ said...

Thank you, Wendy. Nice to see you. You've been taking tea with the vicar again, haven't you? Tut, tut. Make your own cucumber sandwiches!

Jfromtheblock said...

Wow that was so lovely to read. It seems to me, given your attitude, that theres plenty more to add there if you're willing. It almost reminds me of that Donald Trump phase I went through. Have you read those famous inspirational books? Like Rich Dad Poor Dad etc, I'd like to see what you'd think of them

JJ said...

Is that the same Donald Trump who wants to take a big swathe of wild Scotland and turn it into a golf course for rich people, displacing the wildlife and the human population in the process - so he can make even more money?

There's always lots more to say, Jen, but I fear I would be even more boring if I didn't try to keep it short. At the end of the day, all I can do is be responsible for my own attitudes and conduct. I'm certainly nowhere near perfect, and I doubt there's any such thing as perfection anyway. My ex was saying to me only yesterday how different I am from the person she was living with six years ago, which was very different from who I was six years before that - and so on. I think that's all we can do: keep growing, keep going with the flow. In my case, it's nearly always led somewhere different than I expected, and I'm perfectly content with that.

Blessings and welcome as always, Jen.

Anonymous said...

So true! When I see the potential for this stress in my kids' lives I put my foot on the brake, or try to. "..And if the homework brings you down, then we'll throw it on the fire and take the car downtown." Actually, most of us need to reach a certain age (ahem) to realize going with the flow is the only way. Kudos to the young ones here who already have an inkling.

JJ said...

Della, an enlightened parent! Not that I ever doubted you would be, of course.

The odd thing is that I didn't get that kind of stress from the system, as young people do today. I got it from my step-father. He was the one who sent me to bed wrecked every night, having overdone it with the 'tutoring.' He was the one who drummed it into me how 'worthless' I would be if I didn't get a good education. And he was the one who refused to let me stay at school beyond 16. Life's weird, aint it? Fortunately, the bigger and more important lesson wasn't lost on me.

Anonymous said...

Sounds Dickensian almost. Bad situations can come to good though, as in your case of course! I used to think things were worse for children in the past because now we're so much more enlightened. However, I'm thinking our enlightenment is a problem, too. (Here we go with the marveling and doubting.. :)

Anthropomorphica said...

I'm so glad I read this Jeff, it's an inspiring story. I know education in the formal sense has it's uses but it's not ALL there is to learn. You've been able to stay open to learning and life, that's precious and has obviously brought you a rich and varied life.

JJ said...

And an impoverished one at times - which teaches you even more!

Anthropomorphica said...

It does! Necessity is the mother of all invention. I love that saying!

Oh, and may the bonny wilds of Scotland be forever Trump free or may the Scotland trump on Donald!!

Anthropomorphica said...

the Scotland?!? A tad sleepy I think!

JJ said...

Della: Long discussion in that one, I think. My stepfather was a strange man. He died in a mental hospital eventually.

Mal: But the night is young!